Yesterday we woke to a white frosty world.  The views were amazing and it was a day not to be missed, so off we went for a walk.  It was a chance for me to try out my new camera, a surprise Christmas gift from my husband.  So all the photographs today are taken by me, as I take you along with us on our uphill route. A chance for me to share more of the views of my village as we take the footpaths through the fields.

It is a steep hill and we are heading to the top of the brown hill in the distance



You can see the snow on the top of Scafell, the Lakeland hills.
Next through the old stone stile



By this time I am puffing and panting as we have reached the old stile, realising how far we have come and looking up to where we are going.

The white building on the right is the village school, we came through the field next to it.

We are walking to the top of the brown hill, something white is just showing from behind the hill.

We leave the fields and walk up the lane with high banks and hedges. I found the rosehips and snail shell along here and I carried them with me for the rest of my journey.


You can see the estuary and the snake like tidal river where I did my walk for my shore  project.



 We are now on the Moors and the brown hill covered in the rusty coloured dead bracken. It is here that the Slate is quarried, evidence of the stone is everywhere in the village, especially the stone walls and buildings.  It was actually on the television this week,  as Michael Portillo arrived by train to our village and visited the quarry last year.

The quarry workings,  just across from where I am standing.

I needed a rest by now,  a time to catch my breath and eat my snacks and take in the views.  Then the steep path to our destination, the mystery objects behind the hill.

They look small.



THEY ARE HUGE.  The red speck is my husband.

It was worth the walk for the views down to the estuary and the open sea. We can see for miles.

And right on top of the moor in the heather we found the little oak leaf in my picture.  It took us one and a half  hours to reach the wind mill, there are twelve of them on this piece of moor.   This is a place we used to came to as children,  run and play in the bracken,  picnic, paddle in the clear waters in the streams and enjoy the views.  We followed the river as it too made its way back down to sea level.

Down the muddy cart track and through the gate and home down the steep country lane.  We called for a cup of tea on the way down, and later arrived home tired and hungry.  We had walked from our home at sea level to around 800 ft,  all uphill.  It was a beautiful day but chilly on the moors with  puddles of water iced over,  so it felt lovely to arrive home to a cosy fire.
So here is my little picture from the day.  Rose hips reflecting the time of year as they are frosted and blackened and split with the cold.  The little oak leaf that had blown on to the moor and the pale snail shell found on the lane and to finish a piece of blue pottery found in the mud.

Hope you enjoyed the walk and my picture.   And I was pleased with my first photographs with my new camera. Thank you for your comments.                                          Millyx